The Worgen Chronicles
by R-Whistler
Summary: This Story is about the adventures of a Gilnean Captain and his pack leading to and after the Cataclysm. This story is inspired by World of Warcraft.
1. Chapter 1

Darkness engulfing smog swirled over the old dilapidated Victorian buildings encircling the more grand and looked after Manor house of Gilneas. A old stone wall made of grey ominous rock stood around the city of Gilneas protecting its builders from the surrounding Silverpine woods. However the wall of Gilneas had an ulterior motive, to keep the inhabitants of Gilneas inside its boundaries. For the Gilneans were cursed with lycanthropy, although they were cursed they had found a way to control their affliction and could change their form at will but they were still seen as monsters and so walled themselves into their city as to protect themselves and others for all eternity.

Cobbled streets weaved between the houses and shops of Gilneas; always dark; always filled with smog; always watched and always empty of light. Distant but distinct howls could always be heard from any point in the seiged city. The howls would always echo from the Manor house of Gilneas which was now used as a training facility for Gilnean younglings who were trained to be Worgen, the elite fighters of the Gilnean scouting parties who would slip out of the city and spy on the rest of the world.

Twilight eternally hung over the seiged city never shifting with time or nature as if Gilneas was devoid of aging with the rest of the world. But one night the Twilight stopped for the briefest of moments but for all too see the full moon that hung over the City. With a perpetual silence the death throws of a screaming women could be heard echoing a thousand times before ceasing...

and then, the shrieking of a new born child.


	2. Chapter 2

Blood gushed out of the gaping wound in the screeching worgens chest cavity as the bloodworm thrusted outwards from behind the worgens ribs. As the bloodworm tugged itself out of its unwilling prisoner the Worgen collapsed blood gurgling out of his mouth. A red mist clung to the stale old air of the dungeon room. Dimly glowing lanterns could not keep the gloom at bay and a cold draught came through every crevice in the walls.

2 worgens stood remaining panting heavily, 5 so far had died each in a grotesque and

honourless death. Blood lay congealed over the walls, ceiling and floor. Limbs dismembered in hurried attempts to scratch the bloodworm out of Worgen bodies were strewn across the floor. Wide eyed and panicking the 2 remaining Worgen stood with their backs to the wall furthest from the defilement of nature. Both looked for an escape desperately.

Shlurp!

The bloodworm puckered itself onto a dead worgens neck and vacuumed its remaining blood. Both worgen growled in hatred and disgust. The eldest, a female, panted faster and deeper preparing for an end to this nightmare. She lunged at the worm but overreached and drop rolled onto the cold hard packed earth. The bloodworm detached itself from the worgen cadaver and weaved its way towards the female. The female in desperate panic tried to scrabble her way to the barred window above her but could not grasp the stones for the mould. The worm eager for another victim jumped at the females back and landed on her shoulder, quick as a dart the worm grinded its way into the females' neck through the spinal column. Yelping and screeching in agonising pain the females' eyes rolled back into her head showing the bloodshot whites of her eyes. With a crack the spinal column broke and the female collapsed hitting the floor she spasmed twice then laid still blood frothing at her mouth.

The remaining worgen watched all this in horror paralysed by terror. He stood now breathing heavily catching his breath as if he was about to start sobbing. But he stopped himself with great willpower and wiped the tears from his eyes. Daylight breached the dungeon from the barred window and he could feel himself become weak as the moon withdrew its blessing.

The rusted latch of the dungeon door groaned open and the door swung hitting the wall with a metallic clang. More light seared through, then a shadow appeared in the door way.

"Oh my! Look who it is, the Moonchild is the new Captain. Goodness gracious me! I never would of guessed!"

The worgen growled with hatred, glowering at the shadowed figure.

"Oh all right! Well done! Now c'mon you filthy mutt you have work to do!"

Pure hatred swept over the worgen, relishing the idea of mauling the figure to oblivion and back.

The figure clapped twice and the magical chains that always bound the male worgen clasped his paws. Hiding the crescent moon birthmark stained white onto his right paw.


End file.
